


Women on Board

by wheel_pen



Series: Venkii [3]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Enterprise could once again use the help of the Venkii for repairs. But it involves letting some of the Venkii women on board, and they have special abilities that could cause trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Women on Board

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The Venkii are humans who left Earth long ago, and have a few extra enhancements by now.
> 
> 2\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            "Status," Archelus ordered as the scene ahead swam into view on the screen.

            " _Enterprise_ has taken heavy damage," the sensor officer reported.

            "What kind of ships are those?" the Captain demanded.

            "Suliban cell ships," Mulvaney replied, glancing at the database. About half a dozen of the bronze-colored spheres were swarming _Enterprise_ , firing continuously.

            Archelus grimaced. "Decloak," he said to the woman beside him. "But keep our shields up—I don't want any of those sneaky b-----ds getting onto my ship." She nodded her understanding. "Send the fighters in. Tell them to get between those ships and _Enterprise_ , take the fire if they have to, but they don't fire back until my command."

            "Aye, sir," acknowledged the security officer. Small black pods immediately began breaking off from the main ship, spinning towards the battle.

            "Hail _Enterprise_." The communications officer nodded. "This is Captain Archelus. Do you require assistance?"

            The voice that crackled over the comm was not that of Captain Archer, but rather his First Officer, the Vulcan T'Pol. " _Your assistance would be much appreciated_ ," she responded, above the din of alarms blaring on her Bridge.

            Archelus nodded at the security officer. "Fighters—fire at will. Use our main weapons if you have to— _Enterprise_ doesn't take another shot." The once-gleaming silver-white ship was already listing dangerously, stained with scorch marks and dotted with hull breaches sparking into space. "Where the h—l is Archer?" the Captain wondered aloud.

            "Some of the Suliban ships are breaking off _Enterprise_ and heading our way," the security officer warned them. "Fighters are following." The Bridge crew watched as the smooth black pods and patterned brown spheres swooped and darted around each other, exchanging fire. A few shots looked as though they might have hit the main ship, though Archelus didn't feel them.

            "Damage?" he queried.

            Mulvaney shook his head dismissively. "Can't get through our shields, sir."

            "Sir!" the sensor officer exclaimed. " _Enterprise_ 's reactor is overloading."

            "D—n," Archelus muttered. "Helm, pull us back. Keep the main ship just inside transporter range," he added. "But if she starts to blow, we need to get out of here, fast. Hail her again." At the communication officer's signal, Archelus began, "Commander T'Pol, your reactor—"

            " _We are aware of the situation_ ," the Vulcan replied hurriedly.

            "We can transport your people off," Archelus offered, just as quickly.

            There was a slight hesitation on T'Pol's end. " _Understood_ ," she finally uttered, closing the channel.

            "What the h—l does _that_ mean?" Mulvaney asked, mystified.

            "It means, Archer is trying to fix it," Archelus guessed, staring at the beleaguered ship, "and she wants to give him more time." He glared at the golden spheres still madly trying to attack something, anything. "Tell the fighters I want one of those ships to study—without the occupants."

            "Aye, sir," said the security officer.

            "Reactor overload is reaching critical," the sensor officer told them.

            "We need to pull back," the woman said to Archelus.

            He shook his head, with difficulty. "Just a little longer."

            "Divide the ship, then," she persisted.

            "There's not enough time. Helm, you're ready to leave?"

            "Just give the word, sir."

            " _Enterprise_ ," Archelus ordered the communications officer. "Commander—"

            "Reactor has been contained!" the sensor officer announced triumphantly. The Bridge officers visibly relaxed.

            "Suliban ships are retreating," the security officer added.

            "Fighters, pursue," Archelus told him. He made sure the channel to _Enterprise_ was still open. "Commander T'Pol—shall we stop them or let them go?"

            " _Pursuit would serve no logical purpose_ ," the Vulcan replied.

            "Make sure they're gone," Archelus said quietly to the security officer. "And get me one. Let the rest go." The man nodded quickly and the Captain turned back to the comm. "Where's Archer?"

            " _Captain Archer is in Engineering_ ," T'Pol told him crisply.

            Just as he'd thought, then, saving the day. " _Enterprise_ , we'll be here, ready to assist, once your damage has been assessed," Archelus assured her.

            " _Acknowledged_."

 

            "I was sorry to hear you had lost three crewmembers," Archelus mentioned somberly, as he stepped over a pile of debris in the hallway.

            Archer nodded, his mouth set grimly. "I guess I should say we're lucky we didn't lose more, but—"

            "Any is always too many," Archelus finished understandingly.

            "Glad you came along when you did," Jon went on, after a moment, ducking under some dangling wire. "Any damage to your ships?"

            "Not worth mentioning," Archelus assured him. "I think they were more intimidated by the arrival of a second ship than anything," he added modestly. They stopped at a junction in the corridor and Archelus looked around at the chaotic scene—open panels, heaps of twisted scrap metal, crewmembers lugging equipment from place to place. "Anything else we can get for you?"

            "You've been a big help already," Archer answered gratefully, letting a pair of workers carrying a generator of some kind go by. Venkii teams were staffing the overflowing Sickbay, assisting in general clean-up, and making repairs to various systems. They were even crawling all over the outside of the hull in EV suits helping to close the breaches—apparently they had a lot of experience with space walks. And absolutely anything _Enterprise_ ran low on—from medical supplies to repair parts—was transported over from the Venkii ship, with not a word said about price. Jon had decided he would worry about paying Archelus back later; but right now, he couldn't think of a single thing the Venkii could give them that they hadn't already, unless they had a brand-new, upgraded _Enterprise_ hidden in their cargo hold somewhere.

            "I'm afraid you'll have to pull your teams out soon, though," Archer added reluctantly, as they proceeded through the darkened hallways. "We need to get underway as soon as my Chief Engineer gets the impulse engines fixed, maybe three or four days."

            "You'll hardly be in a fit state to travel so soon," Archelus protested, confused.

            Archer agreed, but it couldn't be helped. "We'll have to make further repairs en route," he told his counterpart. "We can't delay this mission any longer."

            "It's that important?" Archelus didn't want to seem as though he were prying; whatever mission Archer had, he didn't need to know the particulars if the other captain couldn't or didn't want to share them.

            "It is," Archer confirmed, his tone sober. "And I can't ask you to accompany us," he added, just as Archelus was about to suggest it.

            The Venkii captain grinned ruefully. "You can't _ask_ , or we simply _can't_ accompany you?" Archer's look told him it was the latter. The two captains were quiet for a moment, then Archelus glanced around. "Is there somewhere we could talk, Captain? Just briefly?"

            Archer gave him a quizzical glance, then got his bearings and realized they were close to a conference room that hadn't been _too_ badly damaged in the attack. He had to hit the door button a couple times to get it open and the lights didn't work very well, but it at least had the privacy Archelus seemed to desire.

            "What is it?" Archer asked, hoping he wasn't too brusque. None of them had gotten much sleep lately, and the delay in the mission was wearing on him.

            "I might be able to help you complete your repairs even faster," Archelus began, clearly uncomfortable. It was not a mood Archer was used to seeing on him. "But you must understand the consequences of it."

            Confused, Archer asked, "Do you mean... reimbursement? I know we're running up quite a tab at the moment—"

            Archelus waved that off. "No, no, nothing like that, Captain. I would never hold that over you at a time like this."

            Archer supposed he should have known that. "Then what?"

            Archelus didn't seem to know how to start his explanation. "All the Venkii teams I've sent over so far—they've all been composed of men." Archer shook his head; he really hadn't had time to notice that. "Venkii women are... different. Perhaps you recall... unusual situations with them?"

            "I don't fully understand how your technology works," Archer admitted slowly, not sure what Archelus was getting at.

            "Venkii women can... talk... to machines, computers in a way that's—" Archelus was not used to explaining this to people and paused in frustration. "If I sent a team of female engineers over here, they could cut your repair times in half, maybe even more. But, your computer system would be exposed to them."

            "What do you mean, exposed?" Archer questioned, bewildered.

            "Venkii women can... absorb information from computers, from the walls even, through connections to the computers," Archelus tried to clarify. "It's what they live on, practically. They have to have information. I could give them orders about what not to touch, you might even be able to encrypt or hide some of your more sensitive data, but... It would be a risk."

            Something still wasn't quite clicking with Archer. "But you've brought women onto the ship before—your daughters..."

            Archelus nodded. "They act as—extensions of our ship's computers, you might say. I can communicate with the ship through them, they can arrange transporter use—they pilot the shuttle that brings me here." He made firm eye contact with Archer. "But every time I brought one over, it was one I knew I could trust to follow my orders, at least at the time, and I kept a close eye on her." He sighed. "I could send you dozens, Captain, and your ship could be almost completely repaired in just a few days. But there's no way to keep an eye on them all."

            Archer tried to work through this idea. "So Venkii women can rapidly record data from a computer system..."

            "Absorb it like a sponge. And you'd _have_ to give them _some_ level of access, just so they'd know what to repair."

            "...and they wouldn't necessarily stop with the data they absolutely needed to perform repairs," Archer continued.

            "It wouldn't be anything malicious, Captain," Archelus assured him. "More like... a temptation too strong to resist." He gave a wry smile. "Actually, we do it to other species all the time."

            "Steal data." Archer didn't intend that to be quite as harsh as it came out, but Archelus didn't appear to be overly offended.

            "It's the way the Liberators adapted us," he shrugged. "You might call it a biological imperative. Especially for the women. But I wanted you to know."

            Archer paused, took a breath. "Let me discuss it with my officers," he said, trying to make up for his tone earlier. G-d, he just really needed some sleep. "Thank you, for telling me."

            "Of course, Captain."

 

            "Absorb information?" Reed repeated dubiously. "Without the aid of recording devices?"

            "That was the impression I got," Archer confirmed reluctantly. He knew exactly what Reed was going to say next.

            "Far too much of a security risk, Captain," the Tactical Officer opined, shaking his dark head. "In fact, I suggest we never let _any_ of them on the ship again, 'supervised' or not."

            "I think _that_ would be seen as a little rude, Malcolm," Archer judged, barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes. "Archelus has brought his daughters over here several times and it was never a problem."

            "According to _them_ ," Reed corrected firmly. "They could have been sucking up our databases the whole time. And who's to say the men can't do it as well?"

            "Illogical, Mr. Reed," T'Pol put in coolly. "If they had already acquired our databases surreptitiously, or planned to do so in the future, it would hardly be wise for them to confess this ability at this point, when we might easily increase our security against them."

            "Thank you, T'Pol," Archer told her, a bit smugly.

            "Excuse me, Captain," the First Officer countered, "but I must agree with Lt. Reed on the current question. Even if Captain Archelus were overstating the risk, it's possible that our entire information network could be compromised." Archer glared at her a little; Reed at least had the good sense not to look triumphant at her support. "Technical specifications, weapons data, personal log entries, confidential medical records—all could be accessed and used for unknown purposes by a people who remain... mysterious, at best."

            Archer sighed. "Look, I know their origin story is still a little weird." Reed snorted. "But you have to admit, they've always been trustworthy in our dealings. Just a few days ago they saved this ship and its crew from the Suliban. Why would they do that and then attack us in a different way?"

            "Captain," T'Pol began, and Archer had the feeling he wasn't going to like what she said, "if we accept Captain Archelus's somewhat... vague explanation as the truth, they may have no intent to attack us at all. The... acquisition of sensitive data may indeed represent an emotional moment of weakness, or even an instinct. There may be nothing _they_ can do to prevent it, even if they wished to. The only logical solution would be to deny them the opportunity to access the data in the first place."

            Archer knew he could just order this to be done, and it would be. He had certainly given such orders before, over the objections of his crew. But in this particular case, with these particular people, he would rather have his senior staff reach _some_ level of agreement, if only to prevent them from standing over the shoulders of the Venkii for the duration of their association.

            "Doctor," he finally said, grasping for a turn in the conversation, "care to weigh in?"

            Unfortunately Phlox looked as though he wouldn't be of much help. "Well, as I mentioned when we first encountered the Venkii and Captain Archelus allowed me to perform certain tests on himself, one of his officers, and his daughter, I _did_ discover that the one female in the group had an anomalous brainwave pattern," he reminded them. "I unfortunately have had no other Venkii, male or female, to examine in such a way, so I cannot say for certain if Miss Archelus's brainwaves are typical of the species. But, they are indeed unlike anything I have ever seen before. It is... not outside the realm of possibility that they might have some kind of enhanced neuroelectrical capabilities."

            "But how _could_ that be possible, if they're human?" Reed questioned, confused.

            "Oh, they are definitely human," Phlox insisted. "But there are some... minute genetic differences, additional genes shared by the three Venkii which are _not_ found in _other_ humans such as the crew of _Enterprise_." The doctor looked thoughtful. "It would be extremely interesting to examine these genes and their functions in more detail... But it is possible that whatever neurological abilities the Venkii possess may have their origin in these supplementary genetic sequences."

            If pressed, Archer would have had to confess he hadn't really been listening to Phlox's explanation... The doctor tended to be somewhat long-winded at times. Instead he had been thinking. "Hoshi," he began firmly when Phlox was finished, "could you encrypt all sensitive data in our computers? Something the Venkii won't be able to break through. Even if it's only temporary."

            Hoshi looked somewhat doubtful. "Maybe, sir," she answered hesitantly. "But if they have as much experience with handling data as it sounds, they might be able to crack any code as fast as a dedicated computer could."

            "Or they could just download the data, encrypted or not, and take it with them to work on later," Reed suggested.

            "What if," Archer continued, trying to sound upbeat, "you also made some kind of an... alarm. So that if anyone tried to access any of the encrypted data, it would send up a red flag to us. Then at least we could keep track of what was going on. If we were to _catch_ the Venkii with any data they weren't supposed to have, I feel like Captain Archelus would be reasonable about it."

            "Do you consider that this... feeling," T'Pol asked, pronouncing the word distastefully, "is worth risking the security of the ship?"

            Archer ignored that question. He felt the answer was obvious anyway. "Hoshi? I'm sure T'Pol could help you," he added, hoping it would be unpleasant for his First Officer.

            Swayed by her Captain's obvious desire for a supportive answer, Hoshi nodded slowly. "I think it could be done, sir."

            "Perhaps, Captain, before you make your final decision," T'Pol interjected stubbornly, "we should seek the input of the person the Venkii engineers would be reporting to—Commander Tucker."

            She said his name a little more loudly than the rest of the sentence and at first Archer was confused. Then he realized that Trip had dozed off during the meeting, leaning against the wall just outside of Archer's line of sight. The forceful mention of his name brought Trip's head jerking upwards again. "What? Huh?"

            "Really, Commander Tucker," tutted Phlox, "you _must_ get some rest before you become a danger to yourself and to the ship."

            "I just _got_ some rest, Doc," Trip insisted, only slightly groggy, "while y'all were yammerin' on."

            This time Archer gave in to the desire to roll his eyes. "What's the last part of the yammering you recall?"

            Trip waved it off dismissively. "Eh, Malcolm was whinin' about security or something." Reed narrowed his eyes at the punchy engineer. "Look, Captain, I don't know anything about them suckin' up data or whatever voodoo they do, but if they can tell a hypo-spanner from a phase coupler, I'll take 'em in the engine room. Half my crew's in Sickbay—these Venkii women might be the only way we're gonna get this ship fit to go when you want her to go."

            Well, that pretty much settled it. "Hoshi, T'Pol, get to work on that encryption," Archer formally ordered them. "And the trigger. How long will you need?"

            Hoshi glanced at T'Pol, who indicated the decision was hers. "A couple of hours?"

            "Good. Malcolm, can you spare anyone to keep an eye on the Venkii when they come aboard?" He felt like he needed to throw the Tactical Officer a bone, even if it were a small one.

            "I can pull some people from maintenance," Reed allowed. "It won't be very many, though."

            "Maybe the presence of security officers nearby will be enough to deter them," the Captain suggested. "Let's get to work."

 

            Trip crouched down beside the pretty brunette. She was kneeling on the floor of the upper level of Engineering, staring intently at an open panel. "Hi there," he greeted cheerfully, giving her a friendly smile.

            She smiled back slowly, shyly. Archer had passed along the information that Venkii women usually didn't work side by side with men, at least in groups, so they might be a little awkward on the social scale.

            "So what's your name?" Trip continued, casually, as if he had all the time in the world.

            "Ava," she answered, the tiniest bit of a lilt detectable in her voice.

            "My name's Trip," he introduced, holding out his hand to shake. She stared at it a bit hesitantly, then slowly reached out to take it. "Oh, I forgot, you ladies aren't big hand shakers," Trip corrected himself. "Sorry."

            "It's okay," she assured him.

            They were quiet for a moment, just looking around, passing the time. "So," Trip finally said, gesturing towards the open panel, "what're you workin' on?"

            "I'm realigning this bank of phase couplers," Ava replied matter-of-factly. Definite accent there.

            Trip nodded as if he had suspected as much. "Well, that sounds good." Pause. "You don't have any _tools_." The last bit was said as calmly as the rest.

            "No," Ava confirmed simply. "I don't need tools to do this. Uh..." She stretched to glance at the pips on his shoulder. "...sir." Trip wondered if the Venkii women had been given a talk about interacting with Starfleet personnel from _their_ commander as well.

            "Okay, don't need tools to do it," Trip muttered, fishing in the pockets of his uniform. "Why would you need tools, after all?" He finally dug out a hand scanner and pointed it at the open panel.

            "Shall I continue?" Ava asked uncertainly.

            "Oh, yeah, you go right ahead," Trip agreed. "Don't let me stop ya." Ava nodded and went back to staring at the panel. Trip stared at the display on the scanner. The diagram showed the phase couplers inside the panel realigning. "Well, h—l," he decided, shaking the scanner a little. Sometimes that helped, when there was a bug. The display persisted. "Son of a—" Trip gave the scanner a sharp whack with his hand, causing Ava to jump and stare at him. Okay, the couplers were not longer being _actively_ aligned, but they were partway there. "What in the—" Trip banged the scanner hard against his knee, succeeding in bruising his knee.

            "Sir..." Ava began tentatively. "Are you alright?"

            Trip held the scanner with its now-scrambled display up to her. "Busted scanner," he explained with a shrug. "That's all."

            "Uh, maybe I could—" An awkward moment was spent with Ava taking the scanner from Trip's hands. "It should just take a—" She didn't press any of the controls, didn't even open it up, just held it for a moment, then gave it back. "I think it's okay now. Sir." She turned quickly back to the panel.

            Trip gazed at the crystal-clear display, watching the couplers realign again, at least until his vision lost focus. "Huh," he finally commented, and stood up. "You just keep right on truckin', darlin'."

            "Yes, sir," Ava replied nervously, staring after him as he ambled off.

            Trip stood on the landing in front of the controls for the warp engine, one of the few unoccupied computer panels in the room. Possibly it was unoccupied because the person who would normally have been standing here, manipulating the controls to adjust the warp field, was stretched out on top of the warp core itself, fondling the casing in what Trip considered a very obscene manner. He'd already climbed up and had a chat with her—her name was Rowena, she had a very pretty Irish/Scottish accent, and she was "smoothing out instabilities" in the warp field. And no, she didn't need any tools for that, thank you. Sir.

            Everywhere Trip turned in the room it was the same. Oh, his people were there, too, the ones who hadn't been confined to Sickbay after the battle, and even a few of the ones who _had_ but who had snuck out. They were diligently working away, adjusting, fixing, testing, scanning, running around with large pieces of equipment sprouting from them. Sprinkled throughout, though, were these... visitors. Guests, Captain Archer liked to call them. They were all dressed in black, though Trip wouldn't exactly call their varied outfits "uniforms," and they were kneeling or sitting or even lying down, quietly touching or sometimes just staring at whatever they were supposed to be fixing. Trip's grandmother had been a fervent Pentecostal—she believed in the laying on of hands and in the speaking of tongues. Well, at this moment Trip felt like he was watching these women heal _Enterprise_ by the laying on of hands, and he felt like he was about to start speaking in tongues in response. He hopped down from the landing with a last-minute burst of energy and headed for the main door.

            Archer met him on the way out. "Trip," he called, "how are the repairs going?"

            "Fan-frickin'-tastic," Trip muttered, walking right by him without stopping.

            Archer backtracked a bit, staring at him. "Uh, Trip? Where are you going?"

            "I'm goin' to take a nap," his Chief Engineer told him, not looking back. "I just don't have the gift, Cap'n. I can do no more here."

            "Okay," Archer agreed dubiously. Some rest would definitely do Trip some good, he decided.

 

            Archer bounded back onto the Bridge with an enthusiasm he hadn't felt for days. Weeks, probably. T'Pol stood as he entered, prepared to give up the command chair, and Archer swore she steeled herself a little bit when she saw the grin on his face. "Are repairs proceeding as expected, Captain?" she asked, stepping out of his way.

            "No, they are not, Commander," he replied, cheerfully, settling into his chair. T'Pol's eyebrow arched a bit. "They are proceeding _much_ more rapidly than expected. Lt. Hess says she thinks the warp drive should be operable by the end of today."

            T'Pol's other eyebrow arched to join the first. It was the Vulcan equivalent of screaming, "Ohmyg-d are you _serious_?!" accompanied by jumping. "That amount of progress is indeed impressive," she allowed. After a pause, she added, "It was not Commander Tucker who appraised you of the repair status?"

            "No," Archer answered, equally excited about this news. "Commander Tucker has been in his quarters, sleeping, for the last hour. Voluntarily."

            If the Bridge crew had managed to contain their surprise about the rapid progress of repairs, now most of them outright turned to stare at him. Archer smiled benevolently. Now was not the time to stick out his tongue and say, "Nyah nyah, told you so," to his senior staff. Later, would be the time for that. Only one thing for him to ask about...

            "Mr. Reed," Archer began, trying not to sound too grandiose with good humor, "any hits on the encrypted data?"

            "Yes, sir," Reed told him swiftly, tapping at the computer panel. "Ten hits, sir, all within the first hour of the Venkii women coming aboard."

            "How many women came aboard again?" Archer asked, facetiously, swinging his chair towards T'Pol.

            "Ten, sir," she reminded him coolly.

            He swung back to Malcolm. "But no indication that anyone tried to download the encrypted data, or decrypt it on the spot?"

            "No, sir," Reed replied. "They seem to be behaving themselves."

            "Excellent."

 

            It was five days after the battle, two after the Venkii women had come aboard. The ship wasn't completely repaired yet, but she was steady enough that Archer felt he could no longer delay the mission. Reluctantly he had asked Captain Archelus to remove his personnel, with great thanks.

            "I must admit I'm pleased we had the opportunity to meet again, Captain," Archelus was saying as they headed, a bit slowly, towards the airlock where his shuttle was docked. "Although I wish it had been under better circumstances, of course."

            "Well, the circumstances would have been a _lot_ worse, for us, if we hadn't met," Archer pointed out. "The engineers you sent over were..." He shook his head in appreciation. "All of your people, really," he amended quickly.

            Archelus chuckled a little. "Societies diverge much more quickly than genes do, Captain," the Venkii commented. "And we've even had a little help in the genetic area. It has been good for our people to interact, I think. You have a... boundless optimism that I hope we can recapture."

            Someday, the next time they were able to sit and chat, Archer decided, he was going to ask Archelus what he kept alluding to with comments like that. But unfortunately they didn't have time right now. "The first time we met, when you had dinner aboard my ship—"

            "Chicken Florentine," Archelus recalled fondly. "Excellent."

            "—you said your wife was your 'Chief Engine,'" Archer reminded him. "At the time, we all thought you had meant, 'Chief Engineer.' Like Commander Tucker." Archelus was already smiling at him, as if he had wondered whether Archer would catch on. "But you didn't, did you?"

            "No," Archelus replied succinctly. "There is no engine, as you would see it, aboard a Venkii ship. No mechanical power source."

            "Just the women."

            "Just the women."

            Archer paused before the airlock. "That must be a h—l of a society you've got," he concluded good-naturedly.

            Archelus grinned. "It's... unique," he allowed, unable to think of a better word. "But it seems to work for us. Until next time, Captain."

            "Safe travel."

            "Safe travel."


End file.
